


I Like Clockblocker Better

by AParticularlyLargeBear



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Trans Female Clockblocker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 04:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParticularlyLargeBear/pseuds/AParticularlyLargeBear
Summary: Clockblocker tries to reconcile the person inside and outside the costume.





	I Like Clockblocker Better

**Author's Note:**

> There are some fairly heavy dysphoria feelings in here. Please be kind to yourself if reading.

The doors of the Ward HQ elevator slid open and Clockblocker breathed for what felt like the first time all day.

 

Sloping inside, she fiddled with her mask, ensuring that it was properly secured to the rest of her costume. She always hated having to take it off to use the biometric scanner, could never shake the paranoia that some PRT agent would walk down the corridor at just the wrong time and see her face. They technically weren’t allowed in that area of the base, but Dean technically wasn’t allowed to smuggle Vicky in four times a week either.

Clockblocker didn’t see anyone around as she slowly meandered into the main living area, which made sense, since she’d come almost directly here after school, only stopping to retrieve her costume. Carlos and Missy would be along soon enough since they had a patrol, and Chris was on console for that. Strictly speaking there was no real reason for Clockblocker to be here today, but she never let that stop her. If she wasn’t butting up against her limit in working hours for the month—yet again—then she’d be volunteering to be out there in the thick of things too. Sophia was usually good for it. Hell she’d happily do PR events instead, but those ate up her time allotment just the same as the actual caping.

For the dozenth time that day, Clockblocker turned the patrols problem over in her head, hunting for a non-existent loophole in the rules. After the quote unquote 'fiasco' with the debut of her cape persona, her goodwill with the director was rock bottom and digging. Armsmaster, the last time she'd met with him, had managed the impressive feat of a full-body eyeroll before she'd even got around to asking. Figures he’d still be steamed about her, ahem, ‘borrowing’ the prototype of his voice synthesiser for her helmet. Rory was too much of a golden boy to help her bend the regulations and she didn’t know any of the other Protectorate members well enough to chance asking.

That only left going out unsanctioned, and that’d get her ass banned from public appearances fast enough to make Velocity blush.

She sighed, rapped her knuckles against the hard surface of her mask, and flopped bonelessly onto the lounge couch.

Clockblocker stayed lying there facedown until she heard the sound of the elevator again. Reluctantly she sat up and removed her mask; keeping it on would just invite awkward questions. She snatched a magazine from the coffee table in front of the couch and was pretending to read it by the time the heavyset figure of Carlos entered the room.

“‘Sup,” she greeted him.

“Dennis. Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

She’d have been disappointed in herself for flinching. She’d had so much practice. “Oh you know, thought you guys might be terribly bored without me.”

Carlos grinned. “You’re right. What’d we do without our morale officer?”

Clockblocker fired off a lazy salute and Carlos chuckled, dumping his backpack before throwing himself down into the plush armchair which bordered the couch. He let out a contented sigh.

“Man. These AP classes are just killing me right now,” he nudged the backpack with his foot. “You would not believe how many assignments I have in there.”

“Can’t you just use your liver as an extra brain or something?” said Clockblocker, as was expected and correct.

Carlos laughed. “You’re a dick, man.”

Clockblocker kept the smile on.

They shot the breeze for a little while and then lapsed into a comfortable silence. Hanging out with Carlos like this was nice; they hadn’t really known each other pre-Wards and so they hadn’t started after joining the Wards as a precaution. It sucked because she got along with him the best outside of Chris. Sophia was an ice queen, Dean was always giving her these worried looks like he knew what was going on in her head and Missy… Missy was the lovely combination of discomfort and then guilt over feeling discomfort.

"Hey," Carlos was tapping a hand rhythmically against the arm of his chair. Clockblocker snapped out of her head, raised an eyebrow. Carlos went on. "I wanted to ask you something but—" he broke off and shook his head with a short laugh. "Sorry. This is difficult and possibly embarrassing, but you're my friend and I don't want to ignore this."

Clockblocker put a hand to her chest, pasting on her best roguish Dennis smile. "Why, Carlos, are you inviting me on a date?"

Carlos smiled without a mote of enthusiasm. "No, I just—" he sighed. "Look, I'm sorry in advance if this is just a bad assumption or me being a dumbass. Do you… prefer being Clockblocker?”

A brick dropped into the pit of her stomach. She made a show of donning a thoughtful expression. “Do I prefer being boring high school nobody Dennis orr awesome ward hero Clockblocker? Gee, that’s a toughie.”

“Heroine.”

Her stomach, brick and all, did a backflip. “Sorry?”

“Clockblocker’s a heroine, right?”

Suddenly she was suffocating. Half a dozen quips stuttered through her head and died before they reached her mouth. Stop reading into it, Carlos. Be like the others, chalk it up to Dennis being Dennis and taking a prank way beyond its logical conclusion for the sake of a laugh. Don’t mess with the one fucking good thing she had going.

Clockblocker’s vision blurred. Her throat closed up. A hand touched her on the shoulder.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

She used her power, slipped out from Carlos’s immobile grip, and fled.

\--

Mask on. Clockblocker.

Mask off. Dennis.

On. Clockblocker.

Off. Dennis.

She turned it over in her hands, swallowed heavily, and then set it to one side. Her eyes stung. In the end it always came back to Dennis. It always came back to who she was when she took the costume off and saw the ugly misshapen thing beneath, who was bulky and broad in the wrong places and narrow and flat in others, equally as wrong.

Clockblocker was dressup, a kid playing pretend. Something she got away with because the PRT had to finish mopping up the mess from the name reveal before they got around to risking another scandal with the same ward. Sooner or later someone would put their foot down, talk about how it was inappropriate for a teenage ‘boy’ to be masquerading as a girl, and then that would be that. No more Clockblocker, just another nail in the coffin she spent most of her waking hours drowning inside.

Wetness dampened her cheeks.

A hard series of knocks at the door to her room, then a muffled voice. Not quite a kid’s voice, but trying hard to sound older than that.

“Dennis! Why the heck is Carlos frozen in the lounge when we have a patrol in like ten minutes!?”

“Cause I am a master prankster,” Clockblocker called back.

“Dammit Dennis!” A pause, and then the door burst open, revealing Missy—no, Vista—standing there, hands on her hips. “What is your… problem?” she trailed off. “Are you okay?”

The reflexive lie came to Clockblocker’s lips but she dragged it back. She was tired of this. Tired of pretending. She managed a watery smile. “Nah, not really.”

“Carlos didn’t do anything, did he?”

Was too insightful? Was too caring? Not knowing the real answer, she just shook her head.

“Oh. Okay.” Vista hovered awkwardly in the doorway. “Anything I can do?”

Clockblocker shook her head again. “No. It’s between me and me.”

“I guess I’ll just… leave you to it then,” Vista took an awkward step back out. She couldn’t blame her. Kicking the door down on a crying teammate would throw anyone off.

“Vista?”

She paused. “Yeah?”

“Tell Carlos sorry and—” she wiped her eyes with the back of her arm. “That yeah, I do prefer it. But that I’m… I’m thinking a few things over.”

Vista gave her a confused look, but nonetheless nodded before leaving.

Clockblocker reached out and picked up her mask again, stared down. A Ward’s mask. A  _heroine’s_  mask.

Maybe it didn’t have to be make-believe.


End file.
